To Live Again
by Siende
Summary: Buffy disappeared after the second season's finale. Two years have passed.
1. Sandra

Chapter 1 – Sandra  
  
The night felt so different. The sounds, the light, even the stars weren't the same. Not that she had anything to compare with, really. It was just a feeling she had deep down inside her.  
  
She sat there every night. At least the nights she didn't work, which were rarely. Mostly all night she sat by the window watching the night sky drifting away into the endless space. Now and then loud sirens or bright lights disturbed her, but as LA never slept, she learned to block out these annoyances. That she had learned early on.  
  
Those nights she worked at the diner were actually her favourite nights. Not too many customers, but enough to earn her a decent amount of tips. The salary and tips were just enough for her to be able to rent a small apartment and live fairly well. She liked her life, most of the time anyway. After all, it was all she knew. Her memory went as far back as two years, back to the car accident she'd been in. It had caused her to suffer memory loss, but it wasn't anything she thought about these days. In the beginning she'd had flashbacks, tiny images from what she assumed was her past life. She kept waiting for the big Return as she called it, but so far her memory remained absent. Most of the time that was fine by her.  
  
Sometimes late at night, however, when the diner was almost empty, or when she lay in the darkness trying to sleep, a sense of wrongness crept over her. A tiny voice deep within her kept screaming that she wasn't supposed to be here. She had somewhere else to be, another life to live. That was usually when the dreams kicked in. They were vivid dreams with astonishing details of places she didn't know and faces she didn't recognize. Two of those faces appeared more often than any other, though, and always together or close. One was the face of dark haired man, with calm features and deep dark eyes. The other was also a male, though he seemed younger than the dark one, with his clear blue eyes and dyed blonde hair. The kept whispering to her, offering their hands, yet she never understood what they were saying.  
  
A lot of things were like that for her nowadays, glimpses of things she thought she knew, but it always slipped away in the end. It didn't matter anymore anyway. She had stopped trying to retrieve her old memories a long time ago.  
  
Sometimes she felt guilty for not trying harder to remember. Surely she must've had friends and family before? In the beginning she had daydreamed that someone would find her who knew who she was and where she came from. But it never happened. And who was she kidding anyway? Reality was hard, she was sure of that, and you had to live in the real world. If you didn't, you might as well be dead.  
  
So she kept on living, doing the best she knew how, and answered to the name of Sandra. 


	2. Mourning of the undead

Part 2  
  
Angel awoke and screamed, yet no sound came from his throat. As always the nightmares plagued him, as they had done for the better part of two years. His Childe slept beside him, a silent slumber Angel didn't wish to disturb. He rose from the huge master bed and silently moved out of the bedroom and down to his favorite place in the mansion – the fireplace in the open area downstairs. The sun had recently set, but he no longer slept past sunset, as he did before. But not anymore. Never again.  
  
It was the nightmares that made him stay awake long after the sun rose and woke well before sunset. Sleep didn't offer rest anymore, at best he could hope for a few hours of dreamless sleep, blessed moments without torment. He knew he deserved every last bit of guilt his body could hold. Still, those precious moments were his sanctuary, as she once had been.  
  
He lit a fire and sat down trying to sort out his thoughts. The light from the flames danced over his large muscular body as the man with the angelic face was lost in deep thought. He closed his eyes and brought forth the last memory he had of her. Her warm body beneath him. Her lips on his, the taste of summer and passion. The faint smell of vanilla that was simply her. The long strands of golden hair that had fallen in her face. Those blue eyes seeing right through him into the tormented depths of his soul. They had been one.  
  
It had been her 17th birthday and the happiest time of his un-life. Too happy, as it turned out. His soul was lost shortly after that turning him into Angelus once again. His memories from that time was blurry and unclear. He wasn't even sure he wanted to remember what he'd done anyway.  
  
The memories were bittersweet. Obviously he'd hurt Buffy so badly she'd run away and... He barely had the strength to think the thought through. She was dead. His true soul mate and eternal love was dead. All because he had toyed with her those weeks he was Angelus. Toyed... The word didn't even begin to describe the things he'd put her through. He sighed. Un-life was hard.  
  
A hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality. His Childe sat down beside him, but didn't say anything. He mourned her too, although in a different way. At least they had each other. Together they sat, Sire and Childe, gazing into the fire and mourning a time that was past. 


	3. A Witch's Feelings

Part 3  
  
Willow Rosenberg put the thick spell book back on the desk and sighed. Her head was aching again. She rubbed her temples irritably, trying to make the pain go away. This was the third time she tried reading up on a certain spell but she kept rereading the same passage all the time. Her concentration was faltering and for once studying witchcraft didn't help her relax.  
  
Usually that was what she turned to when things got rough in her life. Extensive studying was a great way to drown your sorrows without turning into an alcoholic or relying to much on the whole sugar rush issues. Studying was much safer either way. And, she was getting better and better at it. Witchcraft, that is. Studying she was already good at.  
  
But today her wounds could not be mended by the spell book. It was to the day two years since Buffy disappeared. Died, some claimed, but not Willow. Buffy was alive somewhere. Otherwise some new Slayer would have come to Sunnydale, right?  
  
She cast a last rueful glance at the book, but decided to let it be. She rose from her desk and sat down on the bed instead. She'd gotten her own dorm room this year. Still, she missed not having Cordelia around. Sure, she could be a real pain sometimes, but hey, it was better than being alone! She and Xander moved in together during the summer as they were still going steady. Willow and Oz on the other hand split up right after graduation. It was for the better, probably, him being werewolf and all, but at times like this it would be nice if she had someone.  
  
Trying to find something to occupy her mind with Willow let her eyes scan the room. They fell on the photo on her nightstand. Taken over two years ago it was a picture of the gang; herself, Xander, Cordy – and Buffy. They were all smiling so happily. That was before Angel had become Angelus and ruined their lives.  
  
For the zillionth time she went over the last day they'd seen Buffy. She herself had been seriously hurt when Drusilla and her minions came for Giles, the same night Kendra died. In the hospital she had tried to restore Angel's soul, and it had worked. But not in time. Not in time.  
  
A tear fell from her eyes and down her cheek. Willow didn't notice. Angel hadn't awoken Acathla yet, but the damage was done. By the time Giles and Xander returned to the mansion Angel was unconscious, Spike and Drusilla were gone, and so was Buffy. They figured she would return after a few days when things had calmed down, but she didn't. There had been attempts to find her, though. The police had made some futile attempts, but of course didn't find anything. By herself she had cast a 'finding what's lost- spell', but that came up empty too. After she and Giles had anchored Angel's soul he'd tried to find her too. But it was as if the earth had swallowed her literally.  
  
Eventually attempts to find her lessened and ultimately stopped. Maybe she really was dead. But Willow couldn't just give up. Buffy had to be alive, she just had to!  
  
More tears fell as she lay down on her bed clutching to photo to her chest. 


	4. Frightful Encounter

"Bye! See you tomorrow!"  
  
"Yeah!"  
  
Sandra waved goodbye to her co-worker as she turned the keys in the lock to the diner. She was closing tonight and would be the last to leave. She made sure the front doors were locked properly and made her way towards the kitchens. On her way to the back she flipped the switch and the diner went from brightly lit to almost complete darkness. Stopping by her locker she quickly changed into her private clothes and headed for the door. Locking up wasn't that fun, especially walking through the dark alley behind the diner. She always felt as if someone was watching her in a way that made her skin prickle in a most discomforting way.  
  
It seemed darker than ever tonight. Normally there weren't that many sources of light anyway, but now it was is if there hadn't been any light at all, ever. She looked nervously around a few times to make sure no-one was there. Of course she couldn't see that much but she relied on her other senses than eyes in the dark.  
  
Setting a quick pace she moved through the darkness on her way towards the light that spilled from the street lights at the end of the alley. In broad daylight the alley felt large and short, but now it felt long and impossibly narrow.  
  
CRACK!  
  
Sandra immediately turned around with her heart racing in her chest. What was that? Fear blossomed up in her as she stared into the darkness trying to see something. She stood absolutely still, barely breathing to make as little sound as possible. A few minutes past, but she didn't hear anything more than sirens far away in the distance. Slowly she began moving again, feeling a little safer. That was, until she bumped in to something standing directly in her way. Or rather, it was someone.  
  
She let out a small scream as she bumped into the other person. Beginning to apologize she looked up where the eyes would be. Her voiced died as she stared into two yellow eyes piercing the darkness.  
  
"Slayer..." the creature hissed and moved towards her.  
  
Sandra backed a few steps while trying to get away. Her heart was pumping so hard she thought it would jump out of her chest any minute. Still, she could feel the adrenaline rush as she moved towards the creature swinging her backpack as fast as she could. It hit the creatures head, or whatever it was, with such a force it went flying into one of the building walls. Not waiting to see what would happen next Sandra ran through the alley, and continued to run until she came home to her apartment. She locked her door and sank to her knees crying. She was frightened but still remembered the adrenaline rush. And that scared her even more than the unknown creature. 


	5. So Close

Leaving Sunnydale had proved to be an easier decision than Willow ever could've imagined. The truth was there wasn't much left for her there anyway. The gang wasn't really the gang anymore, Giles had gone back to England and Buffy... well, the memories were everywhere. Those were the critical factors involved when Willow decided to go with Angel and Spike to LA instead. She'd promised Angel she'd help him with Angel Investigations, being research-girl and all, but the real truth was she missed battling evil, especially now when she had a few tricks of her own up her sleeve.  
  
Packing hadn't proved that difficult either, she brought relatively few things with her. Some spell books, her laptop and some clothes and she was all set. Angel had picked her up right after sunset, and they hadn't stopped since. Traveling the road from Sunnydale to LA with Angel was OK, but it was the peroxide blond vampire Willow felt uncertain of. Spike and Drusilla had been two of the gangs worst enemies, not in the least due to Drusilla's madness and Spike's inventiveness. Finding him back in Sunnydale with Angel had been a real shock for everyone. But apparently something had happened while Spike and Drusilla were out of town, something that had made Spike return and join the good forces. Willow wasn't clear about what had happened, but given Spike's history she wasn't even sure she wanted to know.  
  
Finally being on the way towards her new life was quite exciting, especially since everything had been ready for some time now. Doyle had managed to get her a small apartment near the agency. Nothing fancy, like Cordelia's once haunted place, but enough to satisfy Willow. She was a lot easier than Cordelia to please. And besides, she didn't have that much with her anyway.  
  
They arrived at Willow's new apartment building right before sunset. Angel and Spike had to move on quickly, neither being much for sunlight, Doyle had been sent to help her move her things.  
  
"So you're the Wicca I've been hearing so much about!" Doyle said and offered his hand.  
  
"Yeah, that would be me!" Willow cheerily answered and shook his hand. "Usually go by the name of Willow, though. Instead of, you know, Wicca."  
  
Doyle smiled. "Naturally" he said. "Those your stuff?" He pointed on the three bags on the pavement. "Let's get you settled in then!"  
  
Willow smiled as she followed Doyle. He seemed like a nice person, half demon and all. Come to think of it, these days she spent more time with demons than normal people. That's what a life on the hellmouth will do for you! she thought.  
  
Packing in didn't take long. Before Doyle left Willow stopped him and said:  
  
"What are the neighbors like?"  
  
"Don't really know any them myself! My friend who got you this place, though, said there's mostly humans here. Perhaps some other vampire, but nothing you'll have to worry about."  
  
"Right, the you-can't-come-in-unless-I-invite-you-rule."  
  
"Yeah, that's the one. In the apartment to your right lives a girl named Sandra and in the apartment to your left lives a bloke called Henry. Or maybe it was Hans? Anyway, guess you'll have to introduce yourself to them!"  
  
Willow watched Doyle disappear down the stairs before beginning to unpack. Tomorrow she would introduce herself to her new neighbors. 


	6. And Yet So Far Away

Despite being able to have visions for quite some time now Doyle never got used to them. Somehow he always believed that next time wouldn't be so bad. The pain wouldn't be quite as searing, he wouldn't cramp quite as much and most of all he wouldn't need to drink quite so much after each attack. Still, when the next vision came, he instantly knew that he it would be just as bad as earlier.  
  
This particular vision had for some reason been fuzzier than usual. He didn't get a name, nor a location, only a face. It was a young woman's face, she could barely be twenty. Doyle had a feeling he should recognize her, she seemed to utterly familiar. But no matter how hard he tried he still couldn't figure out who she was.  
  
Moving down in the elevator to Angel's apartment he went through what he knew from his vision. Not much, as it turned out. This vision was a clear winner in the vaguest clue competition. He found Angel sitting in the kitchen with Spike on the other side of the table.  
  
"Angel," Doyle said softly.  
  
The older vampire turned his head towards him. He was in full game face, yellow eyes piercing through Doyle. Only a second though, then he changed back to his human face.  
  
"What?" he asked tiredly.  
  
"A new vision, only a few moments ago. Not much to go on though. A face, no name, no place. But I know she's in serious danger."  
  
"Well then," Spike said cheerily. "Let's get to work then."  
  
Several hours later spent in front of the computer trying to find out who the woman was did not give any clues at all. They were all tired, except Cordelia, for some mysterious reason.  
  
"This is useless!" Cordelia exclaimed. "I've been going through books for hours and still nothing! You should really talk to TPTB and tell them to give you more clues, Doyle."  
  
Doyle didn't reply only glared at her. Sighing he through himself on the couch grabbing a random book and flipped through the pages. Suddenly, from somewhere in the middle of the book, a photograph fell out and landed on the floor.  
  
"Well... what is..?"  
  
He stared at the photo on the floor. The picture showed a girl with blonde hair smiling at the camera.  
  
Angel quickly reached down and grabbed the photo lying on the floor. He caressed it for a moment, and turned to put it back in the book. He stopped when he saw Doyle's expression.  
  
"That's her." Doyle finally managed to get out. "That's the girl from my vision!"  
  
Angel stared at him. Could it be? Could Buffy really be alive? 


End file.
